Utterly Mad

The small generator chugged painfully, but worked the pump as fast as it would go as effectively as it should have. When day finally broke the two of them were exhausted, having spent the entire uneventful night watching over the equipment in shifts. Only, they didn't get any sleep. The night moved on and on, the silence of the facility deepening into something menacing. Even the sounds of the city beyond the pre-cataclysm defense network died down to a sleepy quietness. All the same, it was impossible to get more than a few minutes of sleep without bolting back into the world of the wakeful with a start. In the morning, Catnip and L were exhausted.

So they didn't notice at first when someone slipped in and stood around awkwardly waiting for them to see him. Catnip started violently when she finally did notice George looking over the railing.

"We've got a new problem Ms. Walker." He said solemnly, "The other generator is gone."

Catnip blinked blearily, rubbed her eyes, then tried to slap herself awake. It had been awhile since she'd heard the rumble of the other much louder generator. Catnip was so used to the background noise by now that it's absence should have struck her right away.

"Oh. Well, do you think we can fix it?" She asked, shaking L a little.

"It's gone Catnip." George reiterated, emphasizing the word 'gone.' It didn't seem to register. Couldn't register in Catnip's foggy brain. "We can't find Tenny either. How much longer is this going to take?" Catnip wandered over to the railing and looked down. The water level had dropped low enough that Catnip could now see the cradle and series of machines designed for accepting and utilizing the wind cells power of rotation. A simple mount like the one that had held the cell in the first place and a series of gears and motors. In a just a little bit, she estimated, she could get down there and start work on cleaning up the works and getting the cell in place. Then all that had to be done was to climb the tower and engage the drive shaft. An hour. An hour at least, two at most. Her bag found it's way onto her shoulder and when she looked, L was there looking haggard and worn out.

"We're in the home stretch now." Catnip said. She reached into her bag and wrapped a hand around the stone hidden there, grinning imperceptibly at the unintended double meaning. "An hour or two and this thing will be running again."